She shrugged with her usual impatience. ‘I don’t know, he didn’t say anything about how they knew, but that could explain how Sligo seems to just turn up no matter where you are. Pretty reliable information, it seems. Perhaps he’s been handing it over for a while.’
I didn’t like the sound of this at all. I looked around, freaked out. Was someone watching me right now? The back of my neck prickled as goosebumps rose. I swung round but there was no-one else in the cenotaph except the two of us.
‘I know Boges thinks it’s because of me—that I pass your secrets onto Sligo … but he’s wrong. Dead wrong. Kelvin is passing information from his boss, Oriana de la Force, onto Zombrovski, who then tells Sligo.’
As much as this news sucked, I wanted to believe she was telling the truth.
‘Kelvin also said something about the Ormond Riddle. It didn’t make any sense to me at the time, and I couldn’t understand exactly what he said, but then when I saw it at your place today, I remembered hearing it.’
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Like I said it didn’t make much sense to me then and I might have got some of the words wrong, but I thought he said something about a double-key code.’
‘A double-key code? What the hell does that mean?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s something to do with how you work out the Riddle. Those numbers might have something to do with it.’ She looked around me, urgently. ‘Where’s your backpack?’ she asked. ‘Don’t tell me you left it behind?’
My anxious face must have told her the answer to that.
She stood up, shaking out her purple skirt and picking up her bag. We both started walking away from the Ormond Angel, heading towards the rusty iron gates that led to the steps down from the cenotaph into the park.
‘I guess the double-key code means what it says—that the code requires a double key—two keys—to solve it.’
I swore. ‘We don’t even have one yet.’
‘I need your help, Winter,’ I continued, as we stood at the top of the steps, ‘to solve the Riddle. I know you’re mad at Boges, but I hope you can not let that worry you too much and concentrate on helping me solve this huge mystery. I also have some letters that I need both of you to look at.’
The black Subaru swung into the lane near the entrance to Memorial Park.
I couldn’t believe it! It was back again!
‘Sligo!’ she cried. ‘I can’t let him see me with you!’
We looked around for another way out of the park but I knew from past experience that there wasn’t one. How were we going to get out of this?
I looked around desperately. I could see two figures getting out of the black Subaru—any moment now and they’d see me!
‘Stay here. Don’t move,’ Winter ordered, pushing me back into the interior of the cenotaph building. ‘Just stay put. Don’t let them see you. Leave this to me!’
With a swirl of her purple skirt, she ran down the steps and along the path.
When I thought it was safe, I carefully poked my head around the gates to find Winter standing in deep conversation with Bruno and Zombrovski, neither of whom was looking in my direction. The three of them continued to stand in conversation a few moments longer then Winter climbed into the back seat of the car, the other two in the front, and the Subaru did a noisy three-point turn and disappeared.
I slumped with relief. Somehow she’d deflected them. Had she put them on a false trail? What had she said?
I had to get back to the boathouse, and pick up my backpack. I hoped with everything I had that it would still be there. The sick feeling in my stomach told me otherwise.
I took off, anger and confusion making my heart pound almost in time with my flying feet.
I skidded to a halt at the corner, checking out the street. I couldn’t see the black Subaru anywhere—but Sligo, with his connection to a car yard, could have any amount of cars available.
Head down, trying to look invisible, I made my way back to the boathouse, walking whenever I saw people looking at me, running at other times.
I hated the thought of Oriana de la Force always knowing where I was. I kept looking around, trying to spot whomever it might have been that was tailing me for her. It seemed impossible that she could keep track of my movements. I looked around me with suspicion. Is it you? I asked myself, with every passing person. Or you?
I raced down the nature reserve and into the boathouse.
I stopped in my tracks and swore again as I saw the old door off its hinges. The boathouse had been trashed! My backpack had been upended and was lying on the floor. My clothes were scattered all over the room. I raced over to my crumpled bag, but I could tell just from looking at it that the drawings and the Riddle were gone!
Bruno and Zombrovski had been through my stuff! Before I even had a chance to find out what was missing, someone grabbed me from behind. I felt a piercing pain in my neck, and then I slumped.
Confusion and chaos whirled around me. I felt I was flying through darkness. Then I was falling into a black pit.
Strange sounds filled my ears.
Crying, wailing, people calling out in strange languages. I tried to move and found I couldn’t.
I sank back down into the darkness.
246 days to go …
My eyes flew open. I looked around. I was in a strange bed. The room was all white—the walls and ceiling, even the curtains that hung at the window. I struggled to move and found that my arms seemed to be in some sort of coat that restrained my movements. I tried to remember what had happened. I recalled seeing Winter in the park and talking about the double-key code, then going back to the boathouse to get my bag. The last thing I remembered was making it to the boathouse and realising that the drawings and the Ormond Riddle were gone.
A pain in my neck reminded me of the stinging sensation I’d felt there just before everything went hazy into blackness.
Someone must have grabbed me silently from behind and stabbed me in the neck with one of my own tranquilliser darts.
I didn’t know how long I’d been in this nightmare state. Freaky visions filled the space behind my closed eyes, my ears filled with horrible shrieks. I had no idea where I was. I could feel the sweat of fear breaking out all over my body because the sounds around me were starting to take shape. The cries, the wailing voices, the sobs—all those strange noises I’d heard while I’d been in some sort of sedated nightmare, were now becoming much clearer.
I was in some house where all around me the other rooms were filled with haunted people. Why were they crying like that? Was this some sort of prison? Again, I struggled to free my arms but whatever was restraining them didn’t budge. I looked down to see that I’d been dressed in what looked like a shirt that went on back to front. With some relief, I found that my feet were free, so I kicked the covers back and got out of the bed, wobbling a bit until I found my balance.
I hurried to the window and looked out past strong iron bars to see that I was on the first floor of a sandstone building, erected around a bare quadrangle. Two people in long white coats moved along the central path. I stumbled over to the door and although there was no way I could have opened it, something told me it was locked.
Some blurry, grey lettering on the bed sheets started becoming clearer.
Then I saw there was a chart at the end of my bed, and I went over to look at.
Slowly, I started to make sense of what had happened. Someone had created a new, completely false identity for me and had had me admitted to this nuthouse as Ben Galloway. Whoever this Dr Elliot Porter was, he’d either been duped by false documents or was part of the conspiracy to lock me up here. In the fine print at the bottom, I saw where I was: Leechwood Lodge Asylum.
I’d heard of this place over the years—Leechwood Lodge. The kids used to call it the Crazy House. Where the mad, bad and dangerous were locked away.
I stared at the hospital chart with disbelief. Then rage. Somehow I had been set up and admitted! I w
ent to the door and kicked it as hard as I could with my bare feet.
‘Let me out of here!’ I yelled. ‘I’m not Ben Galloway! You have it all wrong! I need to speak to someone!’
Nobody came. But my voice had stirred up the other inmates and their yells and howls echoed mine, up and down the corridor outside my locked door.
I slumped against the bed, despairing. This was a terrible place and nobody knew where I was. How could they? I wondered where Boges was—whether he’d gotten away from the boathouse, or whether he’d been grabbed from the road … Who knows what Sligo was capable of doing! Or Oriana de la Force!
I looked around the room to see that none of my possessions were there. No clothing. No sneakers. There wasn’t even a chair or a table. The walls were bare except for a list of fire drill regulations. My mobile was gone. I had nothing except this straitjacket that made my arms and hands useless, and the white hospital nightshirt that hung down almost to my ankles.
I had to get out! Sligo’s thugs must have stolen the drawings and the Ormond Riddle and taken them straight to him. It sounded like he already knew about the double-key code, thanks to Oriana’s rat, Kelvin. What if they worked the Riddle out?! Sligo could do it easily with Winter’s help.
Winter! In the hazy state I was in I was convinced that she’d fooled me and that I’d fallen for her act. How could I have been so stupid? Just because she’d shown me her soft side a couple of times. I was furious with her and furious with myself. I should have listened to Boges. Not only had she probably betrayed me to Sligo, but she had enabled the drawings and the Riddle to fall into his hands. She’d tricked me into trusting her. She’d set me up like a total sucker. She was a thief and a traitor and at that moment I hated her.
And Boges must have been angry with me too. Because of me, I’d lost everything connected to my dad’s secret and put him in danger.
How was I going to escape from Leechwood Lodge? I had to get out; find the Ormond Riddle and my dad’s drawings; go to Mount Helicon. My family needed me. I had to escape!
This time, I ran hard at the door, banging it with my body weight, yelling at the top of my voice, ‘Somebody! I need to talk to somebody! There’s been a big mistake!’
This time I heard heavy footsteps clattering down the corridor. Someone unlocked the door.
‘Please!’ I said as two heavy-built men wearing hospital greens charged into my room. ‘There’s been a big mistake,’ I repeated. ‘I shouldn’t be in here. My name isn’t Ben Galloway! You need to let me out!’
Neither of the big hospital orderlies spoke. Instead, they lifted me back onto the bed and tied me, feet as well, to the bed with wide, white straps so that I couldn’t move at all.
‘I have to talk to someone! Please! I need to see the doctor! I need to see the person in charge of this place! I’m not Ben Galloway!’
The two orderlies walked out without a word, slamming and locking the door behind them.
I lay on the bed, screaming.
The door opened and the tallest of the orderlies stood there, a nasty smile on his face.
‘We can give you twenty mils of Dormadoze and you’ll be out for a week, or you can quieten down. It’s up to you.’
‘Everybody screams in here,’ the shorter one added. ‘No-one takes any notice. You’ll get sick of it soon enough.’ He started backing out, closing the heavy door. ‘They all do in time.’
I heard him locking the door, and then heard his final muffled words. ‘You can scream all you like, kid. Goodnight.’
Copyright
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Text copyright © Gabrielle Lord, 2010.
Illustrations copyright © Scholastic Australia, 2010.
Illustrations by Rebecca Young.
Cover copyright © Scholastic Australia, 2010.
Cover design by Natalie Winter.
Graphics by Nicole Leary.
Cover photography: boy by Michael Bagnall © Scholastic Australia 2010; cars exploding © Rick Doyle/Corbis; girl in hospital © istockphoto.com/Yiannos Ioannou
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Australia Pty Limited in 2012.
E-PUB/MOBI eISBN 978 192198 856 1
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